


Favoring Fire

by Ceares



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: A/U, Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/F, Femslash, Inspired By Tumblr, Season/Series 02 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7180259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceares/pseuds/Ceares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam snatched the glass of wine out of her hand. Pissed though she knew she had no reason to be. It’s not like she didn’t know the woman was a bad guy and doe eyes and an accent that reminded her of home didn’t change that. “Is that how you justify working for her? People are more than just, what? Bad code, is that what you said?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favoring Fire

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally meant for Heroine Big Bang but delays in the schedule meant the season had already started and well, I'd like to post before the show ends. *edited because I really do know there's no baseball in December -sigh*
> 
> Not beta'd. Thanks Felicia for looking this over. 
> 
> Inspired by a Tumblr post on assassin a/us.

“What’s our guy up to now?” Sam tossed Mike his bag and plopped down on the sofa, feet flying onto the table at the same time she dug into her own bag and liberated some fries.

Mike shoved her feet to the side and put his bag on the table digging into his own food with a delicacy that made Sam snort. He rolled his eyes at her and nodded toward the screens. “He’s got another one.”

“Seriously? Is this guy a member of the Viagra a day club?” Sure enough, their mark was draped all over some woman. This one at least seemed to be willing. She wished they could just kill this guy, but Control wanted to catch his contacts too if they could. She watched for another second, absently dipping in for more salty, greasy goodness. 

“She’s cute, though, and classier than usual.”

Mike shook his head. “Says the woman with ketchup on her cheek.”

She shot him the finger and grabbed a napkin, eyes still on the screen. Watching Hastings fuck was definitely not the fun part of the job but it wouldn’t be the first time information got passed in the bed, so watch -- and listen -- they did. She watched the girl lift Hasting’s arm from around her neck and shove him back on the bed. Hastings fell back limply, and Sam frowned. The girl started to strip but it was perfunctory rather than seductive and Hastings still hadn’t moved.

Mike’s eyes met hers. “Do you think?”

He didn’t get to finish before the girl reached up and pulled at her hair, tugging off what turned out to be a wig. Long brown tresses fell down her back. “Shit!” 

She tossed the fries and grabbed her gun, heading out of the building and across the street as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. Sam went around to the back entrance, dodging the security cameras they’d scoped out when they first set up surveillance. The last thing she needed was to show up on camera when they found Hastings body. She was up on the floor in less than two minutes and had the door open in another 30 seconds. Sam pulled her gun the minute she closed the door behind her, moving cautiously through the apartment, alert for any movement. She made it to the bedroom, checking Hastings for a pulse even though she was sure he was dead.

_“Six o’clock!”_

Sam heeded Mike’s frantic warning, spinning just as Hastings erstwhile date stepped into the room. She was dressed in a loose seer-sucker housekeeping outfit and had covered her long brown hair again, this time with a short, curly black wig. They stood, guns aimed steadily at each other.

She tilted her head and grinned, cinnamon brown eyes lighting up. “Well. Isn’t this fun?”

“That’s not exactly the word I would use.” Though, okay, Sam might admit to herself that it was more interesting than their usual missions were. This was the first time they’d gotten snaked on a target.

_“Sam, this address just came up on the police ban. Get out of there.”_

“I imagine your associate is telling you the police are on the way.” She shrugged. “Sorry, that was me. I had to make sure you guys cleared out of here, though” and she paused and ran her eyes down Sam appreciatively, “it’s a pity we won’t have a little more time.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “I guess we’ll just have to live with the disappointment.”

She winked. “Maybe next time.” Her gun never wavered as she backed out of the door and out of sight. By the time Sam followed she was gone, door swing closed behind her.

Sam had really, really wanted to shoot her but she knew finding out what was going on was more important than her own satisfaction. She watched the door snap shut. “I look forward to it.”

_“Stop flirting and get the hell out of there.”_

“Not flirting!” She could hear sirens in the distance and she headed out the opposite direction, back the way she’d come. The hitter’s strategy had been effective. She had no time to search for any information on Hastings associates before the cops got there and she was sure that there’d be nothing to find by the time they could get back to the scene.

Wilson was pissed, but Hastings was dead and Sam was sure Control would come up with something else on who he was working with soon enough. He left a trail somewhere, even if they couldn’t squeeze it out of him personally. Wilson wasn’t the least bit interested in the hitter, but Sam was, and not because she had a crush, like Mike claimed, even while he agreed to see what he could turn up. Not only had the woman beaten them to the punch by eliminating Hastings, she’d known about _both_ of them and that made Sam nervous.

**********

Six months passed before the next time Sam saw her, and this time, _she_ was the one playing the honey trap. It was a simple in and out but the mark had two bodyguards with her at all times. Sam had to get close enough to do the job and get out without attracting attention. Fortunately, even criminals were creatures of habit, something that often got them killed and it would this time too if Sam didn’t wind up killing somebody else first.

Like clockwork, Burton stepped out of his office to start his bar walk. For the third time that evening, he smacked her on the ass. “Look alive, newbie!”

She gritted her teeth, tightening her fingers around her serving tray to keep from bludgeoning him with it. “One. More. Time.”

Mike laughed in her ear. “Just take pleasure in knowing you could kill him in five different ways with your stilettos, and that you just have a few hours to go.”

She glanced at the VIP booth where the mark and her party had just been seated. Malena Benoit had a reputation for always sampling ‘new meat’. Rumor was, Burton gave her a call when someone promising hired on. Sam was counting on it because Malena also had a reputation for carrying on her late father’s arms business. Just recently she had expanded her business to working with Abu Sayyaf and come onto Control’s radar.

“I could kill him for you.” The hint of amusement in the whisper did nothing to diminish the seriousness of the offer.

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Sam closed her eyes and took a deep breath, swallowing the instant urge to go for her gun. She might be able to salvage the mission but not if she drew that kind of attention to herself. She swung around to find the woman from Hasting’s apartment smirking at her.

“Don’t worry, Sweetie. My mission here is strictly non-lethal, though I’m sure yours isn’t.” She grabbed a glass of wine off Sam’s tray and took a sip. “Ms. Benoit ordered a very nice bottle of the Krug to celebrate. She’ll ask that you deliver it.” She leaned in. “A little tip, she likes when they’re hard to get. Act like you want to go and she’ll ask you to stay.”

“And you don’t care?”

She shrugged. “Why should I? The check cleared.”

Sam stared at her. “You know what she does and you really don’t care?”

She shook her head. ‘Hmm, neither does your employer. They only care who she does it to. Do your job and it’s just another piece of bad code eliminated.”

Sam snatched the glass of wine out of her hand. Pissed though she knew she had no reason to be. It’s not like she didn’t know the woman was a bad guy and doe eyes and an accent that reminded her of home didn’t change that. “Is that how you justify working for her? People are more than just, what? Bad code, is that what you said?”

She took the wine back, crinkling her brow, and staring at Sam with sympathetic eyes. “You really believe that don’t you? That is so sweet.”

Sam gritted her teeth, the condescending tone rankling as much as the fact that she had lost the upper hand. “I am _not_ sweet.”

Her expression changed, becoming almost feral and she licked her lips, leaning in until her breath ghosted across Sam’s mouth, mingling with her own. “Oh, but I bet you are.”

Sam shoved her away, ignoring the heat that curled in her belly. She glanced over at the VIP section to find several sets of eyes on them.

She tracked her gaze and grinned. “Don’t worry, Benoit will be even more intrigued now.” She finished the wine and sat the glass back on Sam’s tray. “See you next time, Sameen.”

**********  
Sam met up with Mike the next day at one of their drop points. He was already reading through the details of their next mission and he ignored her until she punched him in the arm. “She knows my name, Mike. Please tell me you found something on her.”

Mike grimaced, rubbing his arm. “Yeah, that’s she’s bad news.”

Sam rolled her eyes and punched him again. “Duh.”

Mike grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard enough to make her realize how serious he was. “No, Sam. She scares people who don’t get scared. They call her Root, but nobody really knows much about her except that she’s that good, and that ruthless. That she likes you? That’s worse than if she didn’t.” He let her go and shook his head. “And you need to stop doing that thing you do.”

Sam threw up her hands in exasperation. “Aw, come on! I’m not doing anything.”

Mike cocked a brow. “Okay, she flirts and what do you do?”

She shrugged. “I blow her off.”

He jabbed a finger in her direction like she had proved his point. “Exactly. That annoyed, exasperated, over it, thing you do? You only do that with people you like. Otherwise, you’re ice.”

Sam sighed. He might have a point. Maybe. “Look, she’s hot and good with a gun okay, but the two of us together...” her mouth twisted, “would burn down the city, and my asbestos dress is in the cleaners.”

**********

Sam didn’t have a problem getting a job cleaning the offices of the Hawkins building after the regular cleaner got picked up for outstanding warrants that he insisted were cleared up years ago. It was a conveniently manufactured clerical error that would be straightened out in a week, more than enough time for them to get what they were looking for and get out.

The coffee shop on the building’s ground floor was open late and they served incredible blintzes all day long. Her mouth was already watering when she stepped in before work, only to see Root across the counter. Root with a name tag that read Sunny, a blonde bob, red, red lips and rack that was _not_ God given. She grinned big and wide when she saw Sam.

“Well, hello darlin’ what can I get for you?” She leaned over the counter. “I’m guessin’ ya have a sweet tooth, right?”

She sounded like Daisy Duke and stood out obviously among all the upscale urbanites in the area. Which, Sam imagined, was the point. Whatever she was doing, anybody looking for her would expect her to be stealthy about it. Sam glanced around at the other customers. Most of them were busy on their phones or tablets though one guy was glancing over. From the direction of his eyes, he was concentrating more on Root’s breasts than anything they were saying. She still smiled through gritted teeth and practically growled out “Root!”

Root handed her coffee and a blintz. “I was hoping your friend, Mike was asking around for you and not your employers.”

“Don’t be flattered. I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to be causing us any more problems.” The coffee was perfect. Sam took a sip and stifled a groan.

Root grinned again. “Don’t worry, Sweetie. I promise it’s completely a coincidence this time. I’m here for 3 B. He and his partners embezzled a lot of money from their company, only since he did all the work, he figured he should keep all the money.” She shrugged. “They didn’t agree. I’m guessing you’re here for.”

She paused and tapped her lip like she was thinking hard when Sam was sure she knew exactly what they were there for. She’d done her research just like they had, only they only checked on connections between Setez and the other tenants.“10 A, right?” She grinned proudly.

Sam rolled her eyes, biting into the blintz. She chewed and did groan this time, before responding. “What do you want, a gold star?”

Root shrugged. “The landlord might want to start vetting his tenants a little more closely. 8 C has almost three thousand dollars in unpaid parking tickets.” She shook her head and tisked. “Seriously, though, guess there’s just something in the universe that wants us together.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Sam finished her blintz in a couple of bites, and balled up the bag, tossing it into the trash. “Just stay out of my way, okay.” 

Root leaned forward, eyes never leaving Sam’s and dragged one black tipped nail along the edge of Sam’s mouth. “You had a little something there.” She took the finger and slipped it into her own mouth. “Umm, delicious.” Before Sam could respond, Root wrapped a second blintz and bagged it, sliding it over the counter to Sam. “See you later, Sweetie.” 

Mike just looked at her when she finished up the report, one eyebrow raised. She shrugged. It wasn’t like she was searching Root out, or encouraging her, no matter what Mike thought. Even if it _was_ getting past coincidence.

**********

It was three months after that, that she decided the universe could go fuck itself.  
Root peered into the overhang Sam was tucked under and grinned at her. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

Sam pulled her coat tighter around her, stepping back into the alleyway. “Oh, we will because I’m going to kill you.”

“Aw, is that any way to talk when I brought you breakfast? Heads up!”

Sam reacted automatically, reaching up to catch the protein bar and juice bottle that came tumbling toward her.

Root waved. “Have a good day, Sameen.”

And then she was gone. Sam refused to admit that her flush was more than anger, even as she tore open the wrapping on the bar. No point in wasting food. She never did find out why Root was there that time.

**********

They were between jobs and Mike was off being secretive somewhere and Sam had _plans_. The bar was crowded, the guy next to her was promising, the scotch was single malt and Sam was getting buzzed and laid tonight. It had been way too long for both.

“Buy a girl a drink?”

The promising guy, Jim (of course not his real name but who cared) looked over and his mouth dropped open. His eyes flicked back and forth and he flushed. “I... I mean I...”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Root never took her eyes off Sam. She flicked her hair behind her ear, tilted her head and smiled. “Well?”

And oh it was such a bad idea. It was such a bad idea that somewhere, Michael probably got a cold chill for no reason, but Root’s smile had always made Sam want things she shouldn’t have; things that would probably result in natural disaster levels of damage, but right now, she’d had just enough Glenlivet to not really give a fuck about avoiding the storm. She’d had just enough to revel in it.

“Chuy!” She held up two fingers when the bartender looked over at her. He nodded and headed their way. Not-Jim stumbled off the stool and backed away, glancing back at them hopefully, eyes slightly glazed. Sam ignored him, watching Root slip into the vacant spot and cross her legs delicately. She folded her hands in her lap primly and Sam rolled her eyes. “Really?”

Root shrugged. “I’m just letting you lead.”

Sam snorted. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

“I’m excellent at following orders when I want to.” She smiled and fluttered her lashes and Sam wasn’t sure whether she wanted to kiss her or hit her more.

She gave it an hour at most. She was off by thirty minutes. Half an hour and two more drinks in, Root had moved close enough that their ankles were brushing together. She was rubbing two fingers gently over the pulse point on Sam’s wrist, staring down intently. Sam didn’t mind. It wasn’t like she didn’t know what Root was like and she figured it’d take something pretty extraordinary to get her to care about anybody’s rules but her own.

“I really, really want to take you home and fuck you. Can I?”

For an answer, Sam reached up with her other hand, and pulled her into a hard kiss, nipping her bottom lip as she pulled away. Roots eyes were bright, and she licked her lips and grinned ferally.

 

Sam would worry about Root knowing where she was staying, but considering that Root found her in her favorite bar, she had no doubt she could find her hotel if she wanted to. Root spent the taxi ride whispering filthy promises in her ear. Sam was happy they made it into the elevator before she started to make good on them. She really did like this hotel. Root made her reckless, though. Whatever was wild in her called to the same in Sam. Which was why she was pressed against the wall of the elevator, shuddering while Root mouthed at her nipples through the material of her dress.

Sam groaned. “Fuck! Root, I really _am_ going to kill you.”

“You have a reputation for being thorough.” She licked delicately up Sam’s neck. “I’d hate to disappoint you.” Root’s mouth settled on the soft skin behind Sam’s ear and she bit down hard. There was a sharp burst of pain, followed by a burst of heat that made Sam moan.

Root’s hand slid down across her stomach and thighs to the hem of her dress and brushed her fingers lightly along the edge, just barely touching Sam’s skin. Sam shivered and caught her breath as Root slid her hand up under her dress, and over her panties before sliding her fingers under the band. Sam canted her hips almost involuntarily, biting her lip, breath catching in anticipation.

Root dipped two fingers into Sam’s cunt and pressed her thumb hard against her clit. “Oh Sweetie, you’re so wet for me.” She pulled her fingers out and Sam bit down on her instinctive protest, grinding her thighs together as Root held them up, glistening with moisture and then sucked them into her mouth with a grin and hit the button to open the doors.

Sam felt like she was almost delirious, she burned from the scotch and from _want_. Her whole body felt like it was on fire and Root was just as hot, burning under her touch. Their clothes lay where they fell and tripping over the couch was enough to shortstop their journey to the bedroom for the closest flat surface.

Root straddled her and looked down. “You are amazing, you know that? Your breasts are spectacular, your ass is amazing and watching you work? Is” she took a deep breath and leaned down, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the fading bruises on Sam’s collarbone “inspiring.”

Root leaned down until their mouths were almost touching and her hair fell into a cocoon around them. A hand moved down Sam’s body, blunt, black coated nails scraping furrows across her belly and down, into the tender skin of her inner thighs.

Sam reached up and threaded her fingers roughly through Root’s hair, pulling her down into a kiss that turned into a battle for dominance. Root pulled back and slapped her, a sharp stinging blow that made her eyes water. Sam grabbed Root’s hand and bit at her wrist, teeth digging into the fine skin at the base of her thumb until Root sucked in a breath and then she slid the thumb into her mouth, scraping her teeth over the digit before releasing it.

Sam really wished she trusted Root enough to let her tie her down. She had a feeling the experience would be sublime. As it was, she settled for the long, slender fingers wrapped around her wrists tight enough that she knew there would be bruises tomorrow.

 

**********

Sam didn’t want to go home, not that she’d thought of Houston as home for a long time. There was no such place anymore. But she’d been contacted by her mother’s lawyer and it was quicker and easier to handle things in person. She signed all the papers she needed to and avoided the conversation he wanted to have with her about her parents. She was meeting Mike in three days in Alaska and meanwhile, she was happy to take advantage of the fact that it was in the 80’s in April. Sam was almost resigned when she stepped into the hotel lobby and Root was sitting at the coffee counter, legs swinging, sipping an elaborate coffee drink through a straw and staring at the door. She sighed and made her way over.

Root offered her a sip, sliding it back between her own lips when Shaw shook her head. Shaw focused her attention on something other than moist, pink lips drawing on the straw. “Are you stalking me?”

“I’m not.” Root shrugged. “I mean, I _would_ but I’m honestly not. I keep telling you, it’s a higher power.” There was something serious and knowing about her tone that made Sam shiver. “Relax, I’m not here on a job, just visiting a friend.” She was smirking as usual but there was something _hurt_ in her eyes and Sam thought it was the first time she’d ever seen honest emotion from Root.

She leaned against the counter. “So do you think your higher power could just let me enjoy a weekend off?”

“Want some company?”

It was soft and there was something in her tone that threw Sam off. It wasn’t the cheery little psycho that Root usually projected and for some reason, it bothered her. And that was the excuse she’d use if asked. Not that, hey she didn’t seem as giddily demented as usual, was gonna persuade Mike that Sam was making good life choices here when she said “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Of all things, they wound up at a baseball game. Watching the Astros play brought back memories of being at the game with her father. She grabbed them another beer and added her voice to those jeering the Ump. They went through huge amounts of popcorn and nachos and beer and exchanged stories about watching the ‘Stros play at the dome and Sam tried _not_ to think about how this felt pretty much like the perfect date since she didn’t do that, and she was pretty sure Root didn’t do that. They had dinner and then went back to the hotel and Root went down on her until she cried, so there was that.

**********

It got to be not a _thing_ , more like a bad habit. Root turned up in Ban Houayxay and Jacksonville and Budapest. Even when their jobs didn’t cross anymore, Root found her anyway.

In Acapulco, Root leaned in and pressed her lips against the bruise and then her fingers, hard enough for Sam to flinch and sigh and lean into it. Root laughed, pleased. “I hate for anybody to hurt you, well, except me.”

It wasn’t like she didn’t hook up with other people but Mike always seemed to know when she’d been with Root. He never said anything, but she still always got the guilts and swore it was the last time. They both knew she was lying. It wasn’t just that the sex was good -- okay, fantastic -- it was that Root had somehow become a constant. One of the very few in her life.

She didn’t trust Root, but she didn’t _not_ trust her either. That’s why she was actually surprised when she felt the prick of the needle against her neck and her last thought as she collapsed was that if she lived, Mike was going to kill her.

Sam blinked against the light, head fuzzy like she’d been on a three-day bender, which she had, just not last night. She was in a room she didn’t recognize.

“Good morning, Sweetie.”

Root was sitting across from her in a chair. Her legs were crossed and she was sipping from a cup of tea like she was in the Russian Tea Room. A sharp pain shot through Sam’s skull and with it, the image of Root standing over her bed, the pinch of a needle and then nothing. The pain came again and she moved to put a hand to her head and that’s when she realized she was zip tied to the chair.

“What the fuck, Root?”

“Your friend, Mike has been asking the wrong questions.” She sat the cup down. “Or, rather, he’s been asking the right questions, with the results that usually entails. There’s probably a team at your apartment right now.”

Sam yanked at her hands. “Shit! Mike!”

“Relax, he’s fine. I gave his number to some...friends.”

Sam froze, stomach dropping. “Friends of yours and he’s probably already dead.”

Root laughed. “Well normally, you’d be right but these are good guys.” The quotes were implied in her tone. “Like you, they think that the huddled masses have some sort of intrinsic value. They’ll protect him.”

Sam continued to work at the straps, flexing and relaxing her wrists until she felt a little give. “Yeah, then why didn’t you send them my way too?”

Root flicked her hair behind her back and tilted her head, smiling flirtatiously. “Let’s just say I don’t want you in anybody’s hands except mine.”

“Root.”

The smile became rueful. “We both know you’re not going to be reasonable about this, darlin’. Let’s just say my friends wouldn’t have the leverage I do.”

“What, you think I’m going to listen to you because we fucked?”

Root stood up, coming over and putting her hands on top of Sam’s, the grip tight enough that Sam winced internally. She leaned until she could look Sam in the eyes and hers were bright and intent. “You’re going to listen because you do what you do to protect people because you care about them. I’ve only ever cared about three people. One of them is dead, one of them has a very effective guard dog and then there’s _you_.” 

She grinned again and this time, it was feral. “If something happened to you, I’d kill everybody responsible. And then I’d destroy everybody they cared about. Every _thing_ they cared about, including the patriot games they think they’re playing.”

Sam’s heart fluttered in her throat and she knew Root was serious. She not only knew it, but she understood the impulse, though she’d never act on it; and that was the thing, Root would. She was going to be held hostage with the program as leverage for her own protection. “Fuck.”

“Sadly, there’s no time.” Root paused, then she leaned in, mouth closing over Sam’s. She tasted like cardamom and cinnamon from the tea and despite herself, Sam leaned into it. She yanked on the zip ties again, but this time, she wanted to get her hands on Root for a different reason. Well mostly. Okay, it was about half fuck and half kill at this point -- but then again, it usually was.

Sam ground her teeth together and huffed out a breath. “Fine. What’s the plan?”

Root smiled. “Thank you, Sameen.”

**********

Root glanced over at her. “I know what you’re thinking, but there’s no way to _fix_ this Sameen. Your loyalty doesn’t matter. Once you’re on their list you never get off until you’re dead.”

Sam knew she was right. She knew Mike’s rumblings had probably been right too. If they turned on them that easily, who knew how many of the people whose numbers they had been given were just people who opened the wrong box. She stared at the empty landscape passing by at blurring speeds. “Thanks. For Mike.”

Root shrugged. “He’s smart. Not smart enough to not get caught of course, but then he’s only human.” She smirked a bit and Sam felt like there was some joke she was missing. Root glanced at her. “He’s your friend. And, he’s in love with you, a completely understandable sentiment.” The smirk was back and so was the leer.

Sam rolled her eyes. “Could you be serious for a minute?”

Root tilted her head with a grin. “Aw! I’m always serious about you, Sweetie.”

 

Root handed her a black leather wallet. “New I.D. and passport. It’ll pass any security check. There’s another one waiting for you when you get to Paris. Captain Sheldon will take you into Mexico and you’ll catch a flight from there.” She handed her the duffle. “I picked up a few things for you. You’d look suspicious without any luggage. There’s ten thousand in cash sewn into the lining. Give the bag to the cab driver who picks you up at the airport.”

Sam reached out, ignoring the bag Root held out for her and grabbed her coat, pulling her in and smashing their mouths together. The kiss was as rough as any they’d shared and Sam reveled in the clash of teeth and flesh. She stepped back and picked up the bag Root had dropped.

“Maybe I’ll see you again.”

Root’s mouth quirked in a half smile that somehow managed to be both rueful and wistful at the same time. “Someday.”

“Maybe.”

She waited until Root had started up the car, eyes meeting hers briefly in the side mirror before she turned around and walked down to the gangplank.


End file.
